Page 55 of Lethal Pursuit

Her head tilted back and she regarded him in confusion. “Where?”

“To find a way to contact friendlies.”

Her brows pulled together and she turned her attention to the doorway marking the women’s quarters. “Is Haversham here?”

Jackson nodded, his cheek brushing against her hair. “He can’t walk and it’ll slow me down to carry him.” He tightened his arms around her, letting himself hold her a moment longer. “You know why I have to do this, right?”

“Yes.” It took him by surprise when she shifted around gingerly and cuddled into him. “But...in just a minute?”

The vulnerability in her voice and the fact that she’d just asked him to hold her for a minute longer shredded his insides. He gathered her as close as he could without hurting her, wishing there was another option for them. “I’m not deserting you,” he promised in a whisper, needing her to believe him, to hang on. “I’ll get help and come back for you. I’ll come back, I swear.”

She nodded but didn’t answer.

“These people will protect you until I get back. Rest when you can, but don’t take any more of the poppy juice, okay? I know it hurts to cough but you need to in order to clear your lungs.” He pressed a kiss to her hot temple. “I’ll give you your pistol—”

“You took it?”

“Didn’t want you shooting someone by accident when you’re outta your head with fever. You do what you need to and keep youand Haversham safe. I’ll come get you as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” she whispered, looping her good arm around him and squeezing, the effort it cost her telling him just how weak she was.

Jackson buried his face against her tangled hair for a moment and held on, then forced himself to let her go. “Here,” he said, handing her the weapon as he helped her lie back against the pallet. Once he pulled the blanket up over her, he paused to stroke the uninjured side of her face, staring down into her one open sea-green eye. Battered and desperately ill, she was still the most beautiful, amazing woman he’d ever known. “I’m coming back for you.”

A small grin tugged at her cracked lips. “You better. Kick your ass if you don’t.”

Heartened by that show of attitude, he bent over her to kiss the bridge of her nose. “See you soon, baby.”

“Bye.” Her voice was hoarse.

It took an act of will to tear himself away from her, but Jackson made himself get up and leave. Haversham was awake, his gaze hitting him as he stepped out of Maya’s room. “She okay?”

“No.” Not by a long shot. “I have to go, Doug.”

The Sec Def studied him for a second then nodded. “I’ll take care of her.”

“I told her to take care of you,” he said on a laugh.

“Then we’ll take care of each other.” His dark eyes were somber. “Good luck out there, sergeant.”

“Thanks.” Because he was damn sure gonna need all the luck he could get.

After gathering a bladder of water and loading more ammo from the spare magazine into his pistol, he left.

He squinted against the bright early morning sunlight. The villagers were all out going about their daily lives but the ones who saw him stopped dead, eyeing the weapon in his hand. Scanning for threats and finding none, he began heading east out of the village, hyper aware of each second that ticked past. Ahead of him the mountains loomed, the peaks capped with snow that was beginning to melt. Out there somewhere lay either his salvation, or his death. Only time would tell which.

He was almost to the edge of the village when a commotion brokeout ahead of him. Someone started shouting, and the women and children scattered, fleeing for their homes. Jackson ducked behind a low wall, expecting to find a mob of militants coming at him. Instead he saw his host running headlong toward the houses, long tunic flapping behind him, his protruding belly bouncing with each stride. What the hell was going on?

Jackson rose slightly, his finger on the trigger. When the old man noticed Jackson standing behind the wall, he skidded to a halt and pointed back the way he’d come, panting for breath, saying something in an urgent way that made the hair on Jackson’s nape rise.

One word stood out from the others and it made every muscle in his body tighten.

Jihad.

The man said it again, his expression anxious, pointing at the entrance to the village.

Fuck.Jackson checked his perimeter. No one was rushing at him yet. Maybe he still had time to get back to the old man’s house to grab Maya and Haversham and haul them out of there. He couldn’t leave them there now.

He dodged the end of the low wall and took off toward the house. He’d taken two running steps when a prickling in his spine told him it was too late. Whirling, weapon up and ready, he found himself staring down Jihad.

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